Damage
by Croag
Summary: The lives of the Las Vegas crew are shattered as Man fights for its right to live on Earth. Warnings: Contains Slash! NickGreg and Other pairings...maybe. Major Character death, and angst. WoW xover without main characters, Big spoilers 4 the movie.
1. Heard about Aruba?

He gasped for breath, eyes glued to the ground as it got farther and farther...

"Oh shit!" he muttered, "Shit! This isn't happening! This isn't!" he denied, rapidly shaking his head, his hands glued to the..."bars" of his prison. A hand appeared on his shoulder, a stranger's voice whispering, "It'll be okay, it'll be okay. It'll all be over soon, right?" but he jerked the stranger's hand off of him. It wasn't okay! He didn't want to die! He wanted to go back down!

"LET ME OUT!" he screamed, banging against his cage. In reply, he heard it. It was faint, but he heard it.

"GREG!" Nick.

And like a switch, Greg's shoulders slumped, his eyesclosed in resignation. Slowly, he opened them back up, seeing Nick's panicked face slowly become too small to see.

How did he get here? How did it all come...to this?

* * *

"You hear about Aruba?" Greg exclaimed, suddenly appearing behind Catherine. The elder CSI jumped and then shot the younger blond an alarmed look, before turning back to her case. She was headed to the A/V lab.

"Freak thunderstorm, right?" she flipped up a page.

"Yeah! Everyone lost power there. _Everyone_!"

"...Uh huh..." Catherine didn't look up from her files.

"What do you think caused it?"

"Weather stuff...?" she stopped at the A/V lab. "Look, Greg...don't you have a case?"

"Nope!" Greg chirped.

"Well...some of us do. Why don't you go to Grissom? I'm sure he can find you a case to work on with him or you can talk about the weather with him. I'm sure he'd be thrilled either way," Catherine went into the lab and straight to Archie. Greg looked around the hallway, before heading to Gil's office. Cheerfully knocking on Grissom's door before entering, he plopped onto the chair in front of the desk. Slowly, Grissom looked up from whatever report he was writing, an eyebrow raised.

"Greg..."

"Grissom, got any cases for me? Multiple DBs? Big felony? A misdemeanour...?" With every suggestion, Grissom's eyebrow slowly raised higher and higher.

"Sorry Greg," he shrugged. "No one's died yet. No one's committed a major robbery...and we don't do misdemeanours. Just work on your paperwork, that never goes away. It'll always keep you busy. Maybe try opening up a cold case with Warrick or someone." Grissom went back to his report, while the trainee's shoulders sagged with the weight of his disappointment. Then, they quickly regained their normal composure as Greg excitedly asked, "Did you hear about Aruba?"

Slowly, Grissom faced Greg again. "Freak thunderstorm, right?"

"Why does everyone answer like that? Do you really need add the 'right' at the end?" Gil looked taken back, looked around the room, then back at Greg.

"_What_?"

Greg quickly shook his head. "Nothing, nothing...never mind." he paused. "But you've heard about it, yeah?" after eliciting a slow nod from Grissom, Greg asked, "What do you think caused it?"

"Different air pressures, Greg. What else causes thunderstorms?"

"I dunno'! It was a _freak_ thunderstorm, right? Couldn't the cause be something else like...?" he gestured around wildly, arms flailing as he tried to come up with something. "Pollution?"

"...Pollution?"

"Yeah!" Grissom continued to look sceptic, yet amused in that Grissom way of his. It made Greg's confidence fizzle out. "Well...no! But you know, maybe something _different_ caused the storm!"

"Like pollution..."

"It could happen! Like..." he snapped his fingers. "Global warming! Maybe it was caused by global warming, _which_ is caused by _pollution_!" the blond smugly pointed out. The CSI supervisor let out a small laugh.

"Greg...just go do your paperwork. I'll call you if a case comes up." he waved Greg off with a shooing motion.

"All right...I'll go talk to Nick!" and with that, Greg was off again. Grissom just rolled his eyes and went back to work.

* * *

"Nick!" Nick looked up from the computer screen, caught sight of Greg and grinned.

"Greggo!"

"Watcha' working on?"

"Nothing much, just looking over some cold ca-_Hey_!" Stokes yelped as his boyfriend dragged him across the hallway and into a closet. And then, before Nick's brain could catch up to the present, Greg slammed the door and latched himself to Nick's lips. Instinctively, the CSI let out a throaty moan and threw his arms around Greg's waist, deepening the kiss, until his brain finally caught up. He quickly pushed the blond off of him, frantically looking around, making sure no one saw...as if anyone would.

"_Greg_! What are you _doing_?" he hissed. The said man rolled his eyes while calmly wiping off some dust from his shirt, already completely used to Nick panicking over the little things.

"Well I _was_ having a great make out session before _somebody_ freaked out!"

"You're damn right I freaked out! We're at _work_...where we _work_! Stress on _work_, man!" Greg gave him a look that said 'and'. "What if someone sees us, Greg? I thought we agreed not to fool around during work hours!"

"But what about that time…"

"That's doesn't count!"

"But _Nick_!" the younger man whined with a pout. "No one's doing anything..." then he remembered Catherine. "Well...mostly no one but that's not the point! _We,_ meaning me and you, you and I," he rapidly pointed at both of them, "are not on a case! All we're doing is filling in a bunch of papers that can wait...or in your case, looking over some old case that can_ still _wait!" Greg ran a seductive finger down Nick's chest and then started drawing little circles over his stomach. "C'mon...live a little." Greg growled in a husky voice. He leaned in, his lips almost touching the brunette's, breath hot and inviting against Nick's slightly part mouth. "Get in touch with that…" the sound of beepers going off filled the closet and the blond quickly pulled away from his boyfriend, grumbling to himself. He checked his beeper and scowled. All hopes of getting himself a little office supply closet loving were gone, disappearing in a puff of proverbial smoke.

"Nick, babe, did Grissom beep you?"

"Yeah..."

"Which means we have a case, right?"

"Probably."

"Damn it! I was _so_ close to getting some!" he shook his fist. "So _close_!" Nick gave him a disapproving look, not the least bit amused by Greg's antics. The trainee grinned in response. Rolling his eyes and knowing it was useless, the Texan slowly opened the door, cautiously looking around to make sure no one was watching, before he dragged Greg out of the supply closet and shut the door.

"C'mon you..." Nick grumbled, "Swear to god, I can't you take you anywhere!" And the only response he got was that loud laugh that he loved to death.

* * *

"Not to sound like a five year old or anything...but are were there yet? I mean, where _is_ this crime scene? Cause like we've already left the city!" Greg loudly whined, huffing with impatience.

"It's in some small town just outside of the city, barely in our jurisdiction."

"Okay...so what's with all the cars?" Greg asked as Grissom parked the van in the middle of the road, next to Brass's cop car. About a dozen abandoned cars blocked the rest of the road. People were cautiously moving down the street, trying to see what happened and why the cops were there.

"According to Brass, a freak storm hit the town, which knocked out the power and made all the cars stop working."

"Freak storm? Like the one that hit Aruba?"

"Yes Greg, like the one that hit Aruba." The three CSI's walked past the cars and into a throng of people.

Nick looked around, surveying all the cars. "Did lightening somehow strike all of the cars or something?"

"No they just stopped working during the storm." Grissom said.

The Texan was still confused. How does a thunderstorm affect that many cars like _that_?

"Grissom!" Brass called out, waving them over.

"What have we got, Brass?" Gil asked as they caught up to him.

"Male DB, early thirties, identified as a Michael Grodin. Witnesses say he was struck by lightning…"

"Umm...Brass, we only investigate homicides and suspicious deaths. Getting struck by lightning is a natural cause of death." Nick cut in. Brass gave him a sour look.

"I know. Let me finish. Witnesses say he was struck by lightening twice, his body toppled over and the lightening kept on coming."

"What do you mean it 'kept on coming'? The storm kept up?" Greg peeped. They reached the body, and both Nick and Greg stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide and pale. Grissom grimaced but walked over to the body.

"No. Michael Grodin was struck by lightening about twenty-four times after the first two, by witnesses' count." There, sprawled on the ground was the body, a gaping hole in his chest...a hole that dug into the concrete with no end in sight. Grissom cautiously peeked over the deceased and into the hole, careful not to disturb the body.

"How far does it go down?" Grissom asked and Brass shrugged.

"No clue." he looked over to Nick. "That suspicious enough for you, Stokes?" A mute nod was all he got. Gil looked up at the sky and saw what could only be described as a giant, grey whirlpool in the clouds. That was kind of suspicious too.

"How did we not see this storm in Vegas?" the CSI asked himself.

"Forget that! How does a guy get struck by lightening _twenty-six_ times?" Greg demanded eyes still glued on the body. "That's impossible, right? Lightning only strikes a place twice in a row at the most, _right_?" Stokes just shook his head.

"I dunno...Umm...Grissom, should we process the hole or wait for the coroner?"

"Let's wait. Process the area around it. This lightening...there's something wrong about it."

"Besides the obvious 'hitting one spot twenty six times'?"

"Yes Sanders, besides that." he paused, "Nick, check the roof of the buildings surrounding the body. See if maybe there's something that could've caused…" he gestured around, "all this."

"I'm on it." The Texan muttered, eager to get away from the body. Greg opted to peer into the mysterious opening; he shined his flashlight down the deep hole but couldn't see the bottom.

And that's when the shaking started. The blond let out a small "squeak!" and jumped, dropping the flashlight into the hole.

"Ok, everyone stay calm!" Brass shouted as the throng of people hurriedly started to run away, screaming in terror.

"Nick! Get back here!" Grissom called out, hoping his CSI could hear him. Greg quickly stepped back from the body, only looking away to glance around for Gil.

"Umm...Grissom!" he called and when Grissom didn't hear him he called out again much louder this time, "_Grissom_!"

Gil whirled to face Greg. "_What_?"

"The ground! Look at the _ground_!" he frantically pointed down. The bug expert's eyes slowly travelled to the ground, already knowing he wouldn't like what he saw and widened.

"Oh shit..."

A/N: ARGGHH! It keeps getting rid of my little scene change mark thingies...I assume only some of you know what I'm talking about, due to my ability of...description. It amazes even me. Thanks to Zoe for being my beta! Love ya'! Please drop a review, and constructive criticism is encouraged! Ciao!


	2. Seperated

A/N: Ooops, I forgot to add one tiny little detail. Thank you to one of my reviewers who pointed this out to me! This is a crossover with War of the Worlds, so uhh...major spoilers for that movie...starting now. None of the movie's characters will be involved...none of the human ones, anyway.I also realize this should all be in my summary, but...meh, I'm lazy. No spoilers happen till now, anyways, so it's fine...I think...And, gets rid of my little scene change marker things, I noticed that everytime there is a gap, like this:

Yo. See the gap inbetween the paragraph above? With gaps like those inbetween paragraphs, it means scene change. Hope that clears up some confusion.Once again, big thanks to my beta, Zoe.You are a lifesaver!And, thank you for all of the wonderful reviews and an even bigger thank you for the constructive criticism! You guys rock!

"Why are the cops here?"  
"The storm wasn't natural! Am I right? There's no way it could've been natural!"  
"Sir! Officer, please! Could you please tell me what's going on?"  
"Should I evacuate my kids?"  
"Officer!"  
"Officer!"  
"Officer!"  
Nick kept his head lowered as he shoved his way through the crowd, politely answering everyone's questions with, "I'm sorry, I'm not at liberty to discuss the case" or, "Sorry, but I'm not a cop." Until he was roughly grabbed and came face to face with a big burl man...a big angry, burly man.  
"Listen you cop, I have a wife and kids and I need to know now: Do I need to evacuate my family? What the hell is going on? Why are the cops here?" Nick calmly tugged the hands off of his shirt.  
"Sir, I have a job to do. I don't know if you have to evacuate your family and I can't discuss an ongoing case, all right?  
Just let me do my-" he was interrupted as the ground beneath him shook. Surprised, he lost his balance and stumbled to the ground.  
Everyone panicked all at once and started running in various directions, each and everyone one of them wanting to be anywhere but there. The CSI quickly jumped to his feet, not in the mood to be trample on and tried to calm everyone down.  
Naturally, no one listened.  
Nick struggled against the crowd, debating whether or not to follow his orders from Grissom about checking the surrounding buildings or to go back to Grissom and see if he could somehow help to control the crowd. Then, he felt his phone vibrating against his hip, he checked the caller ID and it looked like Gil might answer the question for him. Unfortunately, before he could answer his cell, another man ran into him, screaming all the way. His cell phone went flying out of his hand...  
...And was quickly trampled on by the masses of people freaking out. Stifling a curse, he kept struggling against the  
crowd, trying to get back to his boss and Greg but there were just too many people! Too many people were going this way and that, in every possible direction except the one he was trying to go in!  
Finally, giving up, he allowed himself to be swept up by the crowd. He'd catch up with Greggo and Gil after the Earthquake. The panicked screams got louder and if possible, the people became even more motivated to get the hell out of there as a plain looking building suddenly collapsed, and Nick had to push back the feeling of dread.  
...He'd definitely meet up them after the whole natural disaster thing. Definitely! Totally!  
...Hopefully...

"Oh shit..." Grissom repeated, just for good measure. Coming from out of the hole, like little tiny veins, were little tiny lines that were slowly devouring the concrete. Each line was a crack in the sidewalk, and each line traveled like a snake, slithering past people and Gil couldn't help but gape, up the trees! What in the hell could cause that? And the trees in question, well...they just fell apart.  
...No... "fell" was the wrong word. More like they tore apart.  
Which, of course, caused even more mass hysteria and more people running for their lives, and more chaos. Brass's cops made sure to keep the mob off of the crime scene and none of the sprinting people really minded.  
No one wanted to go near the hole or the dead body.  
Basically, most of the people were just trying to "evacuate" the town as fast as possible...and then there were the people like Gil, who were too dumbfounded to do anything but stand there and stare at the hole, like it held the mysteries of the universe. Then more slithering cracks climbed out of the hole and towards the gaping cops. They quickly jumped out of the way, some opting to follow the crowd and get out of there. Grissom still stood there. Watching with  
a fascinated curiosity as a freak crack headed towards him, and then someone grabbed his shoulders yanking him back, and out of the way.  
"Jesus Gil!" Brass exclaimed. "We need to get the hell out of here, now!" he yelled over the mass hysteria.  
"No, we need to find Nick! Greg!" The trainee stopped staring at a destroyed tree and turned to Gil, looking damn close to freaking out. "Greg, I need you to retrieve the body. We should try and salvage whatever evidence we can! Can you do that for me?" Grissom asked the younger man shot a fearful look at the hole, and then another at the body, before he turned back to his boss.  
"What about Nick?" he shouted.  
"I'm going to see if I can-" the rest of his words were drowned out as the screaming got louder. Everyone was staring at something behind the two CSIs and Brass. Slowly, all three of them turned to see what was causing the new eruption of panic from the gathered crowds. One of the cracks traveled all the way to a plain looking building, it wasn't exactly the biggest building in the world...but it wasn't the smallest either, and the crack...didn't stop moving at  
the building...  
...It went up the building, just like the tree.  
"You've gotta be kidding me...!" Greg whimpered as he watched with growing horror as the fissure continued to travel up the building, causing windows to burst apart into tiny little shards and the door of the building to fly out. And as the crack finally traveled over the little shop...the building split in half, one part crumbling down onto a mob of people, only giving them time to scream. It was the first building down but others followed it.  
"Gil, we need to evacuate this place now! Forget the body! Forget the evidence, we're getting out of here!" Brass growled, grabbing the CSI by the arm and dragging him away from the scene. Greg quickly scampered after them, still demanding, "What about Nick? We need to get Nick!"  
"I'm sure he's fine, Sanders but we need to get away from that damn…" Jim heatedly gestured to the hole, "…thing!"  
"But what about-"  
"He's right, Greg." Grissom ignored the betrayed look on the trainee's face. "We need to get out of here before we get buried by debris or trampled on. I saw which direction Nick went in, so we'll go that way and hope we find him. If not, we'll wait it out in the car, hopefully Nick will meet us there, ok?" The blond opened his mouth to protest, thought about it and then shut it, giving his boss a hesitant nod. "Fine..." The three of them stepped out of the crime scene tape while Brass ordered some of his men to stay behind and to try and protect the evidence as best they could. They were careful not to get swept up by the crowd, Jim and Greg followed Gil as he led the way, the cop just eager to get out, while the CSI trainee was just anxious to make sure his lover was all right. They manage to put a few yards between themselves and the crime scene, before the  
earthquake just...stopped. One minute the Earth was shaking and giving everyone hell, and in the next second Bam! It just quit. All at once, everyone froze where they were, unsure if they should just keep on going or if it was finally safe.  
"I…is that it? We're not actually all gonna' die...?"  
"Looks like it, Sanders."  
"I…I still think we should find Nick." Jim shot him an odd look.  
"Why? He's a grown man, he can take care of himself."  
"What if he got caught up in some debris or something? What if he's hurt? We should go make sure he's fine and make sure he knows that we're fine!" he stubbornly shot back, earning a glare from the cop.  
"Jim, Greg's right, we should make sure-" and once again, Grissom was cut off, but this time it wasn't by louder screams of terror, though those would be coming back with a vengeance, and it wasn't another damn earthquake.  
Nope.  
Instead...it was a giant alien "foot" that really looked more like a metal tentacle with an oval shoe at the bottom, but it was foot nonetheless. And here was the best part...  
...It burst out from under their favorite hole.


	3. Do your job, Greggo

Nick gaped as he stared at the...the...his face scrunched up in confusion, what the hell was it? Some people began sprinting again, screaming as they pushed and shoved their way through the crowd. Others ducked into alleys and peaked their heads out, just a hair's breath away from running. The rest, like Nick, just stood there gaping at the monstrosity. What _was_ it? The foot, of course, _they_ didn't know it was a foot, just sat there with its "leg" bending into an arch from the ground. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Nick quickly took advantage of the situation and pushed the through the mob with half hearted mutters of "Excuse me", "Sorry Ma'am" and "Pardon me..." towards the crime scene. He was hell-bent on ignoring the giant metal _thing_ jutting out of the ground from what he only hoped was _near_ and not _on_ crime scene.

Scene change...

"Does anyone else see the giant _thing_ coming out of our crime scene, or is it just me?" Greg all but screamed as the three stared at the foot. The end with the actual "foot" planted onto the ground wasn't really settled all that far from them. They were part of the few people who _weren't _quickly backing away as fast as they could from it.

"We don't know if it came from the scene..." Grissom narrowed his eyes, "What is that?" he asked. Now he was the only person actually moving _towards_ the giant hulking machine...thing. Hesitating, Jim followed after him, not questioning the CSI. After all, Gil always knew what he was doing...usually...

"Gri...Grissom! What the _fuck_ are you _doing_? Get back here! We need to find Nick before _everyone_ goes nuts again! Only a few people are nuts right now, let's take advantage of it, okay? Let's _not_ go near the weird ass _thing_ sticking of the ground that could quite possible _crush_ us like itty bitty _ants_!" Stomping his foot with frustration, Greg scrambled to catch up, cursing all the way. Minutes later, Greg found himself staring up at a giant metal dome, which was connected to a giant metal...rod...thingy-ma-bob. Really, his brain hadn't short fused from the pure _weirdness_ of the situation. Honestly. He just wasn't sure _how_ to describe it. Couldn't begin to put it into words. Gil slowly walked up to the giant hunk of metal, letting his hand hover over the surface. Then, he leaned his head forward his nose inches away from the sleek surface and gently cocked his head to the side, a thoughtful expression on his face. Both Brass and Greg warily watched the exchange, both unsure if they should stop him. Finally, Grissom put his hand down on the metal...and let out a small yelp of surprise, quickly withdrawing his hand. His two friends' were by his side before he could blink.

"What? What is it? What's wrong? Did it brainwash you? I've seen these things in the movies, you know. It's probably some weird governmental secret thing! In fact, I read that..."

"Greg! Stop rambling, ok?" Grissom demanded waiting for Greg to shut his mouth.

"Sorry...but uhh...what's wrong with it?" he curiously peered over at his boss's hand, "Did it do something to your hand?"

"No. It's..." Gil furrowed his brows, lips pursed with thought, "_freezing_!"

"It's cold? I'm no scientists but... shouldn't it be _hot_? I mean, you know, it came from somewhere underground, right?" Brass asked and Grissom shrugged, still pondering the machine.

"We should check out the crime scene, see if it was damaged in any way, make sure those cops are okay." Grissom suggested, he turned to Greg, who was still anxious to get as far away from the machine as possible, "Greg, take some pictures of that thing, then meet us at the crime scene, okay?"

The blond CSI stared at Grissom like he was nuts. "Are you _serious_? I don't wanna' be alone with this thing! What if it moves again? What do I do?"

"Run..." Brass dryly replied. Greg shot him a look that said, "no duh", then his eyes whipped back to his boss.

"You'll be fine. You're a CSI now and this is your job. I'll have to leave you alone in places you won't like and I'll have to do it all the time, Greg. You have to be able to take care of yourself, to handle things without my help."

"Oh that's _real_ soothing. Left warm tinglies inside!" came Greg's sarcastic reply.

"We're leaving now, Sanders. See you once you're _done_, all right? You can handle it." Jim waved goodbye and the two of then left, leaving Greg alone. He stared, surveying the crowd of frightened people that circled around the machine and him, and sighed.

"Fuck..." he muttered and then he posed his camera.

A/N: Ok...I decided to screw my pride and put the words "Scene change" to signigy, guess! What does it signify little Timmy? A scene change? Damn you're good! Yeah...just trying to save you guys some confusion since won't let me use my usual marker thingies...twitches Constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated:)


	4. Holy crap!

'_Holy crap! Holy crap! Holy crap! HOLY CRAP_!' ran like a mantra through Greg's head as he sat huddled against some empty, basement wall. His eyes were clenched shut, teeth grit together, hands clamped over his hears, and he was humming a high pitched, nervous sound as he tried his damndest to tune out the _screams_ and the _rumbling_ and the "_bzzt!" _sound coming from... actually, he'd rather not go there. Not right now. He suppressed his own urge to scream everytime one managed to sneak through his filters. He didn't want to think about what was happening, about the people out there, running for their lives, but the nagging thought that Grissom, Brass, and _Nick_ were still out there...it didn't help him forget. For all he knew, they were running past him while he hid here like a wuss. A coward.

'_You're not fit to be a CSI...A real CSI would be out there _doing_ something!_' and Greg shoved that thought down, muttering to himself, "Now's not the time for your stupid insecurities, Greggo...! Nothing you can do..." And yes, talking to one's self was _not_ a great sign of mental health, but there was a giant _thing_ stampeding through the crowd and turning people into-

'_STOP! Just...stop right there. Let's not think about that. Bad images popping up._' and his hands clenched into fists while he ground his teeth tighter together, still trying to stop his own scream from erupting. Praying to _God_-and if he existed Greg thought it'd be absolutely _spiffy_ if he came down to prove it-that everyone was _alright_. Although...statistically, they're probably dead.

'_Statistically you should be dead too, so shut up!_'

"Okayokayokay..." he rapdily murmured, "Breathe...just _breathe_. Everything will be _fine_. The army will send out some...anti...whatever-the-hell-that-thing-is-weapon, or fighter jet, or missile, or WHATEVER! Point is, we'll all be _fine_. Everyone will be_ fine_, and I'll get to get to go back to spending half of my day with dead people, and finding out how they died. Everything will be...'rock on'."

"Hello...?" The CSI jumped and grabbed his gun, pointing it at a woman with only one thought in mind.

'_Something's here! Something's here! Something's here!_' And then he noticed the little ten year old boy huddled behind the mom, his tiny head fearfully peering at him from behind her long legs. It was around then that Greg realized just _what_ he was aiming at. Quickly putting his gun back into the holster, he stumbled through a sloppy apology, not bothering to meet her eyes. The woman offered him a weak smile, quickly ushering her son down the rest of the basement stairs as a particulary loud and desperate screech penetrated the walls. The three of them sat in silence, none of them sure what to say. Finally, the little boy broke the silence.

"Mommy, what's going on? I wanna' go home! I don't like it here!" the woman quickly shushed her boy, warily glancing up at Greg to make sure he wasn't annoyed or anything. End of the world be damned, for all she knew he was a homicidal maniac with anger management issues. But Greg just continued to stare at the ground, his face blank.

"Honey, Mommy needs you to be quiet, alright? Everything's fine, but for right now, we're going to be here, ok?" the boy looked over to Greg.

"What about him?" he cocked his head to the side, innocent green eyes taking the CSI in, "Is he alright, mommy? He looks sick..." she opened her mouth to try and shush her son, but she was cut off when Greg started chuckling. He shook his head, a small smile on his face as he idly ran his finger over the concrete floor.

"That's the first time I've ever _unintentionally_ scared a kid. Sorry about that..." he paused, before grimly asked, "How bad is it out there? I managed to escape here pretty early." She shook her head, looking as lost as him.

"It's pretty bad...we shouldn't stay here too long." Greg looked up in alarm.

"What? Why?"

"There's another one out there! It...it came from the city."

"The _city_? Like..._Las Vegas_? That city?" she nodded, "No way!" he shook his head in rapid denial, "No _fuckin'_ way!" he paused, before he haltingly asked, "Did...did you actually _see_ it?"

"Yeah...we were running away from that...that _thing_, when I saw thunder...it was hitting the city."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! It was just like the thunderstorm here, hitting the same spot over and over! We kept on running though, I mean...it's a big city! It's like...nothing _this _bad could happen there! Like...whatever that thing is would just _stop_ at Vegas..." Greg nodded, understanding her thoughts perfectly, "but...another _thing_ came out! Just...just...just _minutes_ after that thunderstorm ended!"

"Minutes! The other one took like...two _hours_ before it showed up, and even then, it wasn't instaneous! It waited a while after the first leg appeared, and then it all came out! Why did this one show up so fast?"

"Maybe...maybe because...because the other one already started."

"Started what?"

"I dunno'...a massacre, an extermination...an invasion...?"

"Huh...invasion..." he raised a brow, contemplating the possibilty. It was just easier to think about the most ridiculous one, "This does seem like every alien movie I've ever seen...just with robots."

"And lightening that activates them."

"And kills us all with rays of light."

"Yeah..." an awkward silence filled the room for a few more minutes, "We should get out of here."

"The first one passed already, right? All the screaming...that's just people running, right? I'm not feeling the rumbling or the...that _sound_ it makes! And the 'bzzt' noise is gone too."

"Yeah, the first one passed, but the one from Vegas...it was headed our way. So when everyone was runnning towards the city...we saw it, and turned around. It's probably almost here. This building could still be destroyed, you know."

"Then why did you hide here?"

"It made sense at the time. We needed a rest, we found an empty house. But-"

"Did you see any cops?" he blurted, and damn it, he couldn't resist asking. He needed to know, "I mean, when you were running, either to Vegas or away from Vegas. Did you see any cops running too?" Her eyes narrowed, grabbing her son closer to her, much to the little boy's confusion.

"Cops? Why?" her voice got colder, "Are you in trouble with the law?"

"What? No! Oh god-No! No! No! NO! No..." the CSI rapidly denied, "It's just...I'm...uhh..." he fumbled through his pockets, before he finally found what he was looking for. He took out his badge and showed it to her, "CSI..." he hesitated, "Greg Sanders. You?"

"Sandra...and this is Matt," she gestured to her son.

"You're...you're sure we should leave? Because...this place survived-" he was cut off by _the_ sound.

"M-Mommy..." She hugged him tight, whispering assurances in his ear. Greg clenched his eyes shut again, wishing with every fiber of his being that at least _Nick_ was there with him. There was no way he was going to be able to get through this without him. _No way_! Seconds after _the_ sound, the familiar "_bzzt!_" sounds followed by desperate screams and pleas for help. Sandra quickly covered her son's ears, murmuring a prayer into his hair, while Greg just clenched his eyes shut, trying to ignore the whole thing.

'_This isn't happening! This isn't happening! Oh god, this isn't happening! Not again!_'

But it was. And just like the first time, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it...

**_Not too long ago..._**

_Greg frantically ran for his life. To the right of a him a blurry rainbow colored beam shot out, and went through the woman beside him, causing her to scream and burst into ash. He quickly ducked into an alley, wildly looking for an escape route, for any sign of a familiar face: Grissom, Brass...Nick, hell he'd be happy if he found a random cop from the crime scene! At least then he knew Grissom and Brass stood at least a chance of being alive, assuming they made it to the crime scene before... before... before everything just went to hell. He stayed hidden in the shadows, staring at the machine with wide eyes, not entirely sure he hadn't just...snapped. _

_Really, the only warning he got before everything blew up was...a sound. No...not _a_ sound, but _the _sound. Greg had been minding his own business, trying to swallow every feeling of dread and every urge to get the _hell _out of there by the thought, 'Tommorrow it'll all be over, and you're one stepping closer to becoming a full fledged CSI!' Except...now he had serious doubts about the _lab _even being around tommorrow. But he didn't have a clue that all of..._this_ would happen, so he just went and did his job. After he had taken a few pictures, he heard the sound. It was like a foghorn...just a thousand times louder. His first thought was, 'fish boat!' and then he remembered 'there's no ocean around!' but before he could figure out what it was, the ground shook again, and another leg shot out from the concrete. Seconds later another followed, until the three legs were spread out in a rough triangle, each coming out of the same place...and then the shaking got rougher..._

_...And the rest of the thing appeared. Like a giant squid from one of those corny sea movies, it rose out of the ground almost majestically. The foghorn was heard again, and the giant, robotic eye surveyed the people as it came out of the ground, it's red pupil getting bigger and smaller as it adjusted to the light. When it was fully erect, it towered over every building in the small town, looking down on all of the people. _

_No one moved._

_The humans and the machine stood in a small stalemate, until little tentacles appeared out of the bottom of the thing's metal head. Seconds later, the tentacles shot energy beams at the crowd. The people it hit barely had time to scream before they burst into ash. Another beam was released and took out a house, and another beam was shot. And another...and another...and another..._

_And everyone was fleeing to get the hell out of dodge, Greg included, but the machine took no mercies. Nothing was safe. He had to ignore and pretend the ash appearing appearing on his clothes, on his hands, in his hair, on his face wasn't from that little kid who had been running in front of him, or that lady beside him, or that guy that tried to pass him. And finally, he panicked, because he knew there was no way he was going to outrun that giant thing! So that's when he ducked into the alley, looking for anyone he knew, looking for a place to hide. And he found it. He just sprint to the other side of the street, pushing and shoving people out of his way, and forced himself into the house. He didn't care if he was breaking in. He didn't care if anyone was home. He only cared if the house had a basement. _

_And it did._

_And he hated himself for not being braver and going back out there to look for Grissom, Brass, and _Nick_! For not being herioc and trying to find his car so he could get to the crime lab and warn the others, as if they couldn't see that giant monster headed toward them. But still...any help was...helpful, right? _

_It didn't matter, because all he was doing was hiding there like a snivelling little-_

Sandra and Matt screamed with a horrible, devestating edge lining their voices, forcing Greg out of his thoughts. A beam shot out through the house, tearing the ceiling away from over their heads, and forcing what was left of the house to cave in. Greg, in an instinctive and pitiful attempt to protect himself, tried to shield his head from the falling debris with his arms.

Their screams were the last thing he heard.

* * *

A/N: Oh wow...I _am _an observant one, aren't I? I just discovered the magic that is...that ruler line thing. WOW...so um...from now on, everytime that ruler line thingy shows up, it means scene change. Cool? Cool.  
Ok...I experimented with this chapter a bit, so tell me if it's confusing, alright? Constructive is Really, really, really encouraged for this chapter. Reviews are nice too. :P Ciao! 


	5. The first loss

A/N: In my summary I said there'd be major character deaths...this will be one of those times. Sorry I took so long in posting, but I went on vacation and there was no internet access. However, I'm back and this chapter has been beautifully beta'd, so here it is!

* * *

Catherine huffed in annoyance as another lead led to a dead end. Why couldn't these cases be simple at least once? Just once! Maybe then she'd be able to get home at a normal hour. She roller her eyes, as if!

'_God forbid that ever happen..._' She slumped into her office chair, staring at the computer blankly while running a mental checklist of suspects through her head.

'_Wasn't the boyfriend...the dad...the boss...or the neighbor. No signs of a stalker. No signs of a one night stand. No signs of a suicide. It was definitely a homicide. Checked and re-checked every bit of blood-splatter. I've gone over the scene _twice_ with-_' suddenly, all of the lights went out. Her computer screen went blank. She looked around, waiting for the generator to kick in, absently watching as a few lab techs scurried outside to see what caused the black out. Her fingers started to impatiently tap the desk.

'_Still waiting..._'

"Catherine!" she snapped out of her thoughts and turned to Warrick, noticing that now it was more than just few lab techs leaving the building.

"What's going on? Why isn't the generator working? Why is everyone leaving?"

"You gotta' look outside!" he dragged her out of her chair and out of her office, hurrying after the crowd. "It's crazy out there!" She decided to trust Warrick and ignored the urge to stop and stay inside.

"Crazy how?" she warily asked.

"There's some freak thunderstorm going on out there!" Catherine rolled her eyes, jerking her arm out of Warrick's grip.

"Are you kidding me? A thunderstorm? _That's_ why you're dragging me from my case?"

"No. No, you don't get what I'm sayin' here! The lightening is just hitting _one_ spot."

"_What_?"

"Yeah! C'mon!" he gestured for her to follow him and the two finally made it outside. She looked up at the sky and gaped. The clouds swirled around like a hurricane in the sky, while lightning came out from the center, repeatedly striking _one_ place and nowhere else. She looked around the lawn, noticing the sea of light blue from the lab techs' lab coats. Archie excitedly held up his newest digital camera over everyone's heads, Jacqui was trying to get her cell phone to work so she could call her kids and make sure they were alright. Ecklie stumbled out of the lab, mouth already opened to yell at everyone to get back to work...but the words died in his throat as he saw the storm too.

"Jesus Christ..." he murmured as his eyes stayed glued to the sky. And then, without warning, the lightening just stopped. They all sat in silence, before Archie let out a disappointed sigh.

"Is that all? I'll never get a scientific breakthrough with just that much footage!" Hodges looked at Archie like he was nuts Seconds later, the giant foghorn sound was heard and another machine burst out of the ground. Archie whipped up his camera again, not knowing what else to do, while Catherine quickly joined Jacqui in trying to get her cell phone to work. She needed to call Lindsey! The machine surveyed the city below it, before shooting an energy beam, demolishing anything and anyone in its path. The faint echoes of screams were heard even from the lab's lawn and everyone panicked. Not bothering to go back inside, they all rushed to their cars to get their loved ones and leave...

...But none of the cars worked. Hodges kicked the "goddamned piece of junk" in a vain attempt to make it work. Archie and Warrick popped the hood to see what was wrong with their cars, but both of them couldn't find anything wrong. No one could come up with a reason why _none_ of cars were working in the first place. But really, that was the last thing on their minds as they all looked up at the machine as it stampeded through Vegas. Only one thought filtered through the fear:

They were stuck.

* * *

"You think Sanders will be fine by himself?" Brass asked as the two shoved their way through the crowd.

"Yeah, he'll be fine. He's tougher than he looks," he frowned, "...at least I think he is..." The cop shot Grissom a weird look, before he shaking his head, writing it off as a "Grissom thing" or a perhaps even a "CSI thing".

"Right." The two kept on forcing their way to the crime scene, until someone ran straight into Brass, causing the two to stumble and fall. Gil quickly made sure no one tried to trample them or anything, although not nearly as many people were running now as they were...well, a few minutes before. The one who ran into Brass quickly got up with a flustered, "Oh god, I'm so sor..." and he stopped as he finally got a good look at just _who_ he ran into, "Sir!" Grissom blinked in surprise. The man who ran into Jim was a cop and by the look on Jim's face...he was just as surprised.

"Williams? What are you doing out here? Why aren't you at the crime scene?"

"Sir, the giant rod thing burst out of the hole! The body's gone and Furbanks is dead."

"What about Cochrane?"

"He ran in the other direction." The cop got up and quickly helped his boss up.

"So the crime scene is destroyed?" Gil asked. Williams nodded, looking a bit pale.

"It was...the ground just started shaking and-and-and a little..." he struggled for the words, "_hill _started forming in the concrete until it just..._exploded_ and that...that _thing_ came flying out! And we need to get out of here, sir."

"Why? Did something else come out?"

"No, after the rod came out, another hill started forming sir, and it just kept on getting bigger and bigger. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I don't wanna' know what comes out, if anything else."

"So you wanna' leave?" Brass just got another shaky nod, "Okay...we can leave," the cop brightened up, "just as soon as we find Stokes and get Sanders." His face fell, "Stokes is our only real problem, since we don't know where he is or if he needs our help. As for Sanders, he's over doing that CSI thing at the giant rod, so it won't be hard to find him." Williams looked at the two as if they were nuts.

"Sanders is _processing_ it?"

"Yeah, it's always good to know what something is if it...suddenly bursts out of the Earth." Grissom supplied, completely serious.

"Yeah...I agree..." the cop nervously looked back to where the scene was, before he turned back to his boss, "I'm sorry, sir, but I have to leave now. I have a wife and two kids. If something _dangerous_ pops out of there, I don't wanna' be there. I wanna' be with Jul-" his little tirade was cut off by a freakishly loud foghorn noise, which was quickly followed by more shaking and then...two other legs appearing in a quick succession. One of the legs ended up placing itself to close to the group for comfort. Without waiting to see what would happen next, Brass grabbed Gil, knowing the guy wasn't gonna' move on his own, not when something this big was going on and got as far away from the other leg as possible. Grissom quickly snapped to and followed Jim, politely yanking off his hand from his arm. Both didn't check for officer Williams. The two ducked into an ally and looked back. By then, the machine had fully come out of the ground and was studying its new surrounding.

"Now what?" Brass hissed. The CSI just shook his head.

"I dunno'...We need to find Greg and Nick...fast!" he looked around, "Where's Williams?"

"Doesn't really matter now, if we left him he's probably already passed by us, so no since in trying to find him. He can take care of himself." he peered over the wall, looking at the machine and quickly jerked his head back with an outcry of, "Jesus!"

"What? What happened?"

"That thing just...it shot _laser_ beams or something at _people_!" As if to prove his statement, a _"bzzt!"_ was heard, followed by the sounds of a building crumbling and people screaming.

"We need to start running too. That thing is coming this way!" the other man nodded and got ready to join the running sea of people.

'_We're like a bunch of fish following the current..._' Grissom thought to himself and oddly...he found the thought comforting.

"Now!" the two leaped into the crowd and then ran like hell. Away from the machine. Away from the lasers.

"We still need to get my people back! I'm not leaving them!" Gil yelled over the crowd.

"I know! We'll meet them at the car! I'm assuming those two are smart enough to head that way, right?" Before Gil could reply, a small group quickly separated them and the machine was getting closer. The reach of the lasers was too close. Brass could barely scream, "GIL!" before a beam shot, blowing up half the bottom half of the building and taking some people with it, which caused the other half of the building to crumble over a group of people.

Grissom included. Brass stopped running to stared at the ruins in shock, not quite believing it. But the dust settled spectacularly fast and there was no sign of the quirky bug expert. He looked ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of gray.

But there was no sign, and no denying it.

He, Jim Brass, just saw one of his closest friends, one of the most respected people he knew Gil Grissom, get engulfed by rubble with a hand full of other people.

And he still couldn't grasp it, because it was _Gil_!

But then he was roughly shoved out of the way, and the cop watched with a numb shock as the man who shoved him was engulfed in light and burst into ash. The ground was shaking with each step the giant titan made but he still couldn't move. He still couldn't force his eyes away from the pile of rubble that was his friend's _grave_! And before he knew what he was doing, he was sprinting across the street to the pile, dropping to his knees when he got there. Teeth grit in denial, he grabbed a rock and threw it out of his way.

The machine be damned!

End of the world be damned!

Mass chaos be damned!

Only one thing mattered to Brass right now: his friend was buried under a pile of rocks and he wasn't 100 sure that friend was dead. Surely the legendary Gil Grissom could survive something like this, right? But with every rock he got rid of, the heavy truth became harder to deny. He didn't even know for sure if Gil was one of the people who got hit with that energy beam. Finally, he just stopped. His whole body slumped over with the weight of the knowledge that Gil Grissom was dead. And really, as of that moment, nothing else mattered.

Not even the hands pulling him up.

* * *

A/N: Gil fans...don't kill me. He just...had to go. runs Constructive criticism and reviews make my day! 


	6. Nick!

A/N: Sorry I'm taking so long, guys! I'd like to thanks both my betas fruitbat and Zoe P. for making everything oh so much smoother, and for giving me tips! Alrighty then...enjoy!

"Williams, wait!" the cop stopped running, anxiously whirling around to look back at the titan. It had already passed them by, but still... he couldn't be sure it wouldn't turn around.

"What, Stokes? I told you we were over this way!" he waited for a response, but got nothing. Knowing that Brass and/or Grissom would kill him if he left Stokes behind, he reluctantly turned his attention to the younger CSI.

...Or at least where Nick _had_ been standing.

"Shit! Where the hell did he go!" Williams frantically looked around, praying to _God_ he hadn't lost Stokes.

"Williams! Over here!" whirling around, he caught sight of Nick, but whatever relief he'd felt for that second was gone when he saw _why_ Nick had made them stop. Quickly, he ran to the side of the devastated street and helped Nick pull up the non-responsive Brass.

Nick scanned the surrounding area for Grissom but there was no sign of his boss. '_Brass and Grissom must've gotten separated..._' he took another look around, _'And where the hell is Greg?_' Turning his attention back to Brass he pulled out his flash light and shone it into the older mans eyes, checking for concussion or any other sign of head injury. Relief flooded him as he saw no obvious signs of concussion, but his relief was quickly replaced by shock as he saw the tear tracks…but no tears.

"Stokes, what's wrong? He alright?" Nick gave a hesitant nod, sparing Williams one brief, reassuring glance before refocusing on his friend.

"Brass? Brass, are you okay?" He got no response, but plowed on, "Brass, what happened? Where's Grissom?" Brass's head shot up, his eyes wide and uncomprehending before, slowly, their murky depths cleared with awareness. He looked up at Nick in confusion.

"...Stokes?"

"Yeah, man. What happened? Where's Grissom?" he repeated, "Where did you two get separated?" Brass blinked, and then slowly looked down at the pile off rocks.

"Separated...yeah, we got separated..." he listlessly replied, and silently added, '_And then Gil got killed.'_ But he couldn't admit that now. Not out loud. Not to Stokes, who practically worshipped the ground Gil walked on. Not yet.

"Alright...where?" Brass yanked himself out of Williams's hold, and forced himself to look at Nick.

"Here." Nick and Williams scanned the area, frowning.

"Which way did he go? Did you see?" Williams questioned, anxious to help.

"Yeah…" Nick patiently waited for Brass to elaborate, but the detective kept his mouth shut.

"Brass! Where did he go?"

"Behind you."

Williams exchanged a confused glance with Nick. Slowly, the Texan turned around, only to come face to face with a crumbled wall, and a mountain of debris. He turned back to his friend, more than a little worried that maybe Brass was suffering from a concussion or even a nervous breakdown. He snuck a glance at the metal monster as it continued to terrorize the small town. He couldn't blame Brass if he had snapped, but still...he had to find Grissom and Greg.

"Behind _me_?" Nick pointed to the debris. Williams frowned, seeing Stoke's point. There was nothing but rubble there…no path, no nothing. How could Grissom have gone that way?

"Brass...there's nothing but rocks behind Stokes. Do you mean behind you and me? On the street? Did he go down the street?" Williams carefully prodded.

"No." Brass muttered, confused and more than a little frustrated. Didn't they get it yet?

With his concern increasing every second, Nick debated whether or not Brass even knew what he was saying or where he was.

It was Williams that finally realized what Brass was trying to say and when he did, his eyes darted between the rocks, Brass, and then Stokes "You gotta' be kidding me...oh God..."

Brass lowered his head, knowing his grim message was finally heard, while Nick shot Williams a slightly scared look.

'_Things are worse...great. Things are worse, and I don't know why._' the brunette thought to himself. Shoving down the apprehension growing in his chest, Nick had to ask.

"...What is it? What's wrong?" Williams's mouth suddenly felt dry, unsure of how to address the young CSI.

"Stokes...Grissom...you're boss...he's...he's under..._there_." he gestured at the pile of rocks. He turned his attention to the older policeman "Isn't he?" Brass kept quiet.

"_What_?" Nick demanded. His mind couldn't wrap around what Williams was trying to say, a little voice in his head going, '_Cover your ears! Cover your ears! Quickly, while you have the chance! Cover your ears and run!_'

Williams gestured at the pile of debris again, as if it would help the CSI come to grips with the bitter truth better. "The rubble, Stokes..." he didn't know how to make it any clearer without being horribly blunt and saying, "You're boss was crushed to death." But Nick got it, and both cops watched as his eyes widened and mouth opened in disbelieving shock as he became alarmingly pale.

"No..." he shook his head denial, "No way. Not Grissom..." another head shake, "No way!" But when Brass couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't deny what was being said, Nick felt his whole world tilt.

"I'm...I didn't...we got separated. It was just a few feet, but a beam came down and hit the building," the weary detective nudged his head toward the crumbled wall, "and some people...it might've hit Gil, but I doubt it. Another came down and hit the building, and the top half fell on the rest of the people that were over here at the time." he shook his head, hands holding his head, "It all happened so fast, I could barely believe it was happening, let alone react. Gil didn't have any time to get away."

"Jesus..." the Texan muttered, his voice tinged with both anguish and disbelief, "He's...Grissom...He's..._gone_...He's really gone." Nick couldn't bring himself to say the _other_ word. That always sounded so...final. No matter what, Gil Grissom could never be... _that_.

Williams's head jerked back as he heard the screams around them get louder. A beam shot out, missing them but mere inches.

"What the fuck!" Williams ducked as the machine's head turned around, it's red eye etching itself into the survivors' nightmares as it started to head back towards them, through the already desecrated town. Neither Nick nor Brass could leave their friend's grave, too caught up in their grief.

Williams was another story. He never really knew Gil, so to be honest, the death, horrible as it was, didn't hit him nearly as hard. And he knew, he _knew_, he had to be the one to kick both of them into action. Merely sitting there grieving would get all three of them killed.

"Brass...Stokes...! We should get out of here before that thing kills us too." Mentally wincing to himself but knowing it had to be said, he added, "We can mourn after we survive. Until then..."

Nick's gaze whipped over to Williams's his fists clenched as he snarled. "What?" Williams knew that the only thing stopping Stokes from decking him was the gentle but firm hand of Jim Brass on the young CSI's forearm.

Brass's hand grasped the younger mans arm. "Nick...he's right. I'm not letting anyone else die today, alright?"

Nick opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. His field training kicking in… he knew they were both right. He knew it was what Grissom would've done.

"Fine..." he cast one last look at his friend and mentor's grave, before he turned to follow the two policemen away from danger...or at least as far away as they could hope to get. They pushed and shoved their way through the crowds, ducking for cover every time a beam came too close, until finally Brass's voice was heard above all of the chaos.

"Stokes! Williams! We need to find shelter! A house with a basement!" the three of them surveyed the buildings around them.

"There aren't any houses around here!" Nick shouted.

"We'll find some! Just...come on!" but the farther they went, the less likely it looked like they'd find somewhere to hide in before the monster caught up with them. They weren't going to make it to Vegas either, it was too far away.

Brass suddenly grabbed both Nick and Williams and dragged them into an alley.

"Come on, at least we won't be going in the same direction as that thing." The two men nodded in agreement and followed Brass as he headed down the alley. They traveled in a relative silence, the quiet only shattered by the occasional window breaking or a piercing scream filling the air. Still, the looming figure of the machine could still be seen on the horizon.

"Stokes...how did you and Williams meet up?" Brass asked, partly out of curiosity and a need to break the silence.

"When the earthquake started I went looking for you guys. I was heading to the crime scene, but everyone was going in the opposite direction. I ended up getting swept up by the crowd, but...when the first leg appeared, I managed to shove my way in the right direction. When the whole thing finally came out of the ground, and started destroying everything...I ran into Williams. He told me he had run into you and..." he hesitated, "Grissom." he paused again, swallowing his grief. "Where's Greggo?" the lighthearted tone was strained, "He was with you and...Grissom, right? I mean...Williams never told me he wasn't." Brass's face went blank he glanced at Williams- who shrugged-, and Brass looked down to the ground, refusing to meet Nick's eyes. Alarms went off in the young CSI's head.

"Brass?" Nick looked to the older man.

"...We left him to process the first leg." Nick stopped walking, and nearly stopped breathing. His whole heart seemed to stop for a split second, and then the sudden rush of desperate anger filled his veins.

"You _what_!"

Brass found it hard to meet the younger man's eyes. "Gil wanted it processed, he thought it might have something to do with the case. So...he told Gregg to do it while we got to the scene. He was supposed to meet us there when he finished processing it, but..._it_ came out of the ground before we got to the scene, and after we were too far away to get to Greg right away."

This time, Nick felt his world more than tilt, he felt it shatter. Crumble at his feet. The only thing left was a small part of his brain debating whether or not it was better to just die now or to fight.

His mentor and _role model_ was gone forever.

His city was no doubt going to be destroyed by god only knows knows what.

And...And...Greg might be..._dead_. Hell, not "might be", more like "probably". He had been right next to the foot off the Metal Giant, how could he have possible survived?

Anger flared in him as he turned to Brass. "How could you leave him there? He couldn't have agreed to that!"

"He didn't...but we made him. Nick," Brass was trying his best to calm the Texan down. The last thing they needed was an all out brawl, "We had no idea this would happen! Do you really think Gil would've made Greg process that leg if he thought _this_" he gestured all around, "would happen?" before Nick could reply; the group heard the familiar foghorn noise. However, unlike before, it was faint...and it came from ahead of them...in the direction of Vegas. The three men watched in horror as another machine appeared over their city. They, watched as it surveyed it's prey, and watched as it shot out its beams.

Although it was impossible for them to hear the screams from the city, they could imagine the horror that was unfolding in the streets.,. It wasn't really all that hard. All they had to do was look around.

"Oh God no...Not another one!" All thoughts of killing Brass fled Nick's thoughts as he realized '_Oh shit, everyone in the lab's not going to have enough time to flee! Oh shit…we have nowhere to run!_'

"No! Oh no no no no no _no_! This isn't happening! Julia...Mark...Sheila...!" Williams whimpered, eyes wide with fear. Wild with desperation, sick with worry, he stopped running and jerked around to face Brass, who just looked...weary, "Sheila's only five! Two more months and she'd be old enough for school! Four months until she goes into Kindergarten! How is she supposed to survive? What about Julie? Or Matt? Matt's only ten! Not even in middle school!" Nick stared at the second metal titan, his despair threatening to overwhelm him. Brass looked just as lost.

William's fear driven rant fell on deaf ears.

Nick was still reeling from Grissom's...death and the very probable fact that Greg, _his_ Greg, was dead as well! And now...they had nowhere to run to! Did the thunderstorm happen in Vegas too? Were they so distracted that they didn't notice? If so...then everyone at the lab was stuck where they were. People who, like them, were fleeing to Vegas had nowhere to go! Now...now he had to face the inevitable deaths of more friends...of more _family_! And those that survived...he'd have to tell them about Gil and Greg.

And oh God, Greg! Just a few _hours_ ago they were making out in the fucking supply closet!

'_We shouldn't have left. We should've stayed there. I could've gotten Catherine or Warrick to cover for us, they'd already found out about us. But no...instead I'd been wandering around some stupid town while Greg _died he took a long look at the distant machine in front of him as it terrorized his city and quite possibly as it killed the rest of his family. He could only come up with one thought: '_You must have been so scared, Greggo..._'


	7. Help

_"So I was thinking...how about we take a vacation to Hawaii? I hear it's nice this time of year..." Nick just laughed and ruffled Greg's hair like he was five._

_"No chance in hell, Greggo. We're meeting your parents this Christmas." The lab tech looked up from his microscope with a pout, turning his most lethal puppy dog stare at the Texan._

_"You sure about that? I mean...Christmas is supposed to be a happy time, a fun time. Not a time when I have a mental breakdown because they say something amazingly embarrassing." Greg's pout turned into a mild scowled as Nick just rolled his eyes._

_"They're not that bad."_

_"You say that because they never talk about you!" _

_"Like I see you ever hesitating at the chance to hear embarrassing things about me..."_

_"Well that's_ different_!" Nick raised an eyebrow, eyeing his boyfriend skeptically._

_"How?"_

_"...It just is!" Greg chose to ignore the smug look on Nick's face and retorted, "Do you want these DNA samples or not?" _

_"Yeah, man... that'd be nice." _

_"Than shut up about Thanksgiving." _

'_Surprisingly enough… Christmas hadn't turned out that bad. Mom had just gotten over a cold, and was too tired to really do anything too bad. Dad was too lazy to embarrass me, always was. Not that any of it matters now._' Greg idlythought to himself, as he numbly stared at the fallen beams in front of him.

A small, somewhat pale hand stuck out from under the debris. He didn't bother to check for any survivors.

He woke up a while ago…at least he thought it was a while ago. Time was a hard thing to keep track of right now. He had other things floating through his mind. Like DNA. Did you know you can get DNA from a sock? Good ole' epithelial, they make DNA gathering wonderful. Speaking of DNA, was he still- he gently touched the wound at the back of his head, winced at the pain, and looked back at his hand- yup, still bleeding.

That wasn't good.

Greg wasn't feeling very coherent, the end of the world tended to do that to him, but even he knew he couldn't sleep. The rubble that knocked him out probably gave him a concussion. It was hard to tell. Hard to concentrate. Hard to think about just _what_ was in front of him… under the debris.

'_I need to get out of here. I need to find Nick, and Gil and Brass. I need to get to the lab. I need to survive…_' Idly, he looked up to the ceiling with all of its holes, the thin beams of light teasing him. The only thing between him and the outside wall was a ceiling that looked like it was going to cave at any moment.

That was another matter of concern, but he couldn't do anything about that.

The screams were still there. Good to know he wasn't the only one in this place. The screams were bound to die out sooner or later though, whether it be from the fact that everyone finally made it out of the city, or the fact that the machine had just killed them all off. Then everything would be quiet.

And he would go insane.

'_I need to get out…_' He reached for the ceiling, begging for anyone to come and take him out, even the mythical "hand of God".

But no one came.

'_I need to get out…Nick, get me out!_'

* * *

Catherine frantically looked between her car, her cell, and the giant titan stampeding through Vegas, trying to decide what to worry about most. Should she freak out about the fact that she can't contact Lindsey? The fact she can't get the hell out of there and take Lindsey away? Or the fact that there was a giant _thing_ stampeding through her city, endangering _her_ daughter, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. She looked over at Warrick, who was still trying to fix his car…and failing.

'_He can't help…_' her gaze landed on Archie, who had given up on his car and was videotaping the destruction…again, '_No help there either…_' Every lab tech and fellow CSI she laid eyes on…well…they were as screwed as she was. '_No help at all…_' she bit her lip, eyes anxiously surveying her struggling city, '_How am I going to get to Lindsey? I have to find Lindsey!_' She closed her eyes as the machine unleashed another barrage of beams against the defenseless city. As if closing her eyes would block out the screams that echoed around her from the attack.

"Catherine!" Sarah ran towards the blond CSI, "I tried to call Grissom and the others, but my cell's not working." She pointed back to the building, "And none of the phones in the lab are working either. Is your cell phone working?" Catherine shook her head, feelings of frustration building.

"No! Nothing's working! What the hell is going on? What _is_ that thing?" before Sarah could answer, Archie's loud yelp of "Oh shit!" was heard. The two women quickly whirled to face Archie, and saw him pointing the camera at something to the side. Other people were already staring in horror at what Archie was filming. Knowing they wouldn't like what they saw, but needing to see it, the two turned to face what everyone else was looking at. Another metal titan was appearing over the horizon, headed their way.

"Oh shit…oh shit…oh shit…oh _shit_!" the A/V lab tech rapidly muttered as he caught it all on tape.

"Hey! We need to get out of here!" they all turned to Warrick as he pointed down a road, "If we go this way, we'll get out of Vegas. Maybe we can…go get help, or something. At least we'll be out of danger."

"What if there's more of them out there too?" Hodges demanded, "Then we'll be walking right into them!"

"You gotta' a better idea?" the Trace lab tech kept quiet.

"Warrick, I can't go. Lindsey's still out there and I'm not leaving Vegas without her!"

"I have kids too. I won't leave without them!" Jacqui piped up. Warrick frowned as more lab techs rumbled in agreement.

Everyone had loved ones they had to take care of.

"I'm not going to the city! I'll get killed!" Ecklie protested, ignoring the heated glares he got.

Well…mostly everyone.

"Yeah!" A few other lab techs and CSIs agreed.

"Ok, ok…how about this. We split up. One group leaves Vegas, the other goes into Vegas to get their families or whatever they need." Sarah suggested, warily eyeing the oncoming monster.  
"Fine with me…" Ecklie didn't waste any time in quickly jogging down the road, followed by Hodges and a few others.

"Warrick…which way did Grissom and the others go? I need to make sure they're alright."

"They town they went to is on the other side of the city," he replied to Sarah. She just nodded.

"Alright…I'm with you guys then…I guess."

"Yeah alright, I'm with Catherine." He ignored the surprised look on the blonde's face, "I want to make sure Lindsey's fine. She's a good kid. Plus…" he grinned, although it was rather weak, "I'd rather go through Vegas than spend only god knows how long with both Hodges _and_ Ecklie." The two women gave him a small smile, before nodding.

"Thanks Warrick." His smile grew bigger, less strained, as Catherine thanked him.

"No problem, Cath."

Jacqui appeared behind Sarah, her head peering over the CSI's shoulder. "Mind if I tag along? Archie left Hodges and I figure strength in numbers and all that." She didn't wait for an answer, "So where to first? My kids are still at school…I hope. If not…well, the school isn't too far from my house."

"Lindsey should be in school too. My house is closer to here than the school is though, if we want to check there first."

"Let's just get out of here and see where we end up, ok? Once we survive the one headed this way, we'll come up with a plan." They all nodded. Warrick was right, they just needed to survive first.


	8. Stuck

A/N: Okay...I'm back. Two completed, and deleted, versions later, past the computer malfunctions and writer's block...I'm here. And I've changed the beginning of the story just a tiny bit, thanks to a comment by a reviewer. (I'd give names, but I'mtoo lazy to look it up.XD)They had a good point. :P Okay then, enjoy!

"I'm going to die here, and there's nothing I can do." The revelation didn't sting as much as he thought it would. Greg wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried. He continued to stubbornly avoid looking at the debris, doing his best to not think about _why_ he was avoiding the rubble.

So what does a person do in their final hours, stuck in a basement with people's terrified shrieks and screams for help echoing around them? He looked down at his hands, seeing only Nick. His grinning face, his Southern charm, the intense look he got on his face during a case. A faint smile spread over Greg's face at the images. And when he thought about the way Nick's accent got thicker when he was nervous or...aroused, made Greg's grin wider.

…But, he would never see any of that again, would he? Greg's grin faded.

He started to pace, he couldn't help it! Was he really going to just stand there and take it? Did he have a choice? Could he really do anything?

"You can't give up Greggo. I'm waiting for you. Don't make me wait forever, 'cause we both know I will." Greg froze mid-pace, and then frantically whirled around, wildly looking for any sign of Nick.

"Nick? Nick? C'mon…where are you? Get me out of here!" but no one was there…and Gregory Hojem Sanders wouldn't except that…he _couldn't_! Angrily, he stalked to the pile of rubble and savagely started tearing it all apart. Pieces of wood, rocks, and dust went flying everywhere but he didn't care.

Greg knew Nick was hiding in there somewhere, he did _not_ just hear random voices in his head! He was here, _waiting_ for Greg to find him! Teasing him! Taunting him!

Well, Nick had another thing coming if he thought Greg was going to take that sitting down! Oh no, he was going to find Nick and they were both going to get the hell out of there!

Not once did it cross Greg's mind on just _how_ Nick had gotten there, or why he was "taunting" him. He was too desperate, he _needed_ Nick to be there, hell…he'd be happy if Ecklie showed up!

So he savagely tore apart at the pile of rubble and debris...

"Come on, Nick! Where are you? Come out! Why are you hiding? We need to get out here!" he whined. "Why don't you just come out? We need to get out of here!" he paused in his digging to frantically point up, to the elusive outside world. "That _thing_ is going to kill us, you know! It's not gone yet! The screams are still going strong!" but he got no answer, and Nick still hid from him…so Greg frantically began tossing debris around again.

"I'll find you, you know. I don't know why you're hiding, but I'll find you, Nicky! I'll-" he stopped dead, hand shaking as it hovered over the next piece of debris…eyes glued to…the dead eye staring back at him, the rest of the face hidden by debris.

Oh shit.

He violently jerked back, stumbling down to the ground…but his eyes stayed glued on the rubble.

That's right. It was the woman and her...son. What were their names?

'_Sandra and Matt…'_ Oh right…his mind flashed back to the pale arm sticking out, to small to be an adults…and he abruptly turned away from the pile of debris.

Enough of that, they were dead. There was nothing he could do. Nothing!

'_It's just like your everyday job, Sanders. No different…no difference at all. You just gotta' suck it up. You can't lose it…you can't!' _and Greg couldn't help but laugh at that thought.

Lose it? He snickered again.

'_Too late for that, Greggo.'_ He shook his head, mournfully glancing at the pile, full of nothing but dust and rotting flesh.

Nick wasn't there, was he? He was never there. Gingerly, Greg touched the wound on his head, wincing at the pain.  
He was having hallucinations thank to a head wound. And that was it.

_'I'm not a head case…'_ he licked his dry lips, surveying the room around him.

Nothing. There was nothing to help him get up through the ceiling. No ladder, no nothing. But it didn't matter. He was going to get out of here; he wasn't going to be the last one out of that godforsaken place. If Greg was going to die anywhere…it'd be in Vegas. His city. He'd go down with it, if he had to. A small, sardonic grin spread over his face.

If the other giant machine…_thingy_ was wreaking as much havoc here as it was there, Vegas would probably be gone before he was.

Funny.

He waited for the laughter to bubble up, but none came. He couldn't laugh. His smile was gone. There was nothing left. He had to get out. Slowly turning around, he took stock of everything around him. There had to be something in here. Anything! Maybe he could…make a ladder…somehow. He thought about it, weighed his options, and burned that idea.

Useless. He couldn't make a ladder without a hammer and at least a few nails. He sighed, the feeling of hopelessness overwhelming him. And again, he heard Nick.

"Don't! Don't give up, Greggo! Come on!" the blond grit his teeth, suppressing the urge to look for Nick…to reply. It was just a hallucination from a head injury. That's it. But still…

He was going to get out.

'_Alright…think. You're a CSI…be resourceful. What can I use as a ladder…a boost up?'_ He took another look around, and slowly…his eyes rested on the mountain of rubble…on the pale hand sticking out…and still, he could feel the dull eye staring back at him…piercing him with the look of death. The deaths he couldn't stop…the deaths he escaped.

Was that right? A little boy dying instead of Greg? A mother leaving the world? Was that right?

'_Stop! Just…stop it. It's over. Just…find a way out. Find Nick. Survive!'_

Survive…

Biting his lip, he clenched his eyes shut…and scrambled to the top of the pile of rubble, refusing to look at what he was standing on.

Greg wasn't sure if he could take looking into the dead of eyes of either Sandra or Matt again.

'_Just one step in front of the other…one step in front of the others…one step-- Jesus Christ!'_ A chunk of wood went loose under his foot, sending him stumbling down. Arms flailing around, pieces of rubble flying everywhere, he landed on his back, chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

That had not helped his head at all.

Slowly, after getting his bearings straight, Greg got up on wobbly legs, making sure the pile beneath him was relatively stable. Taking a deep breath, he started again...cautiously making his way up the pile. Once he got to the top, he could just…make a big hole in the ceiling and jump up. Hopefully the remaining roof would be able to hold his weight. If not…

'_You're screwed, Greggo…'_ swallowing the lump in his throat, he finally made it up, staring up at the tiny holes in the ceiling, taunting him with their thin beams of freedom.

The screams had stopped, and all the echoes of them were gone. The rumbling of the titan's footsteps...gone.

This was it. If this didn't work…he really was stuck there. The staircase out of the basement was destroyed; there was no other way he could possibly crawl out of the roof except this pile of rubble! It was the highest boost he could get.

This was it. Make it or die.

Grabbing a well sized rock, he tossed it in his hand for good measure, to make sure it was heavy enough, before he hurled hit to the ceiling. The rock made a loud crack as it burst through the roof. A fine sheen of dust covered him. Wincing, he used his arms to sheild his eyes from the dust, waiting for everything to settle... praying to _God_ the remaining roof didn't cave in. After a minute, he slowly lowered his arms.

'_Looks like God does listen sometimes…'_ He thought to himself, a wry smile spreading over his face.

Oh Goody.

He was still alive.

Now all he had to do was crawl out and hope the remaining roof could support his weight.

'_Here I come, Nicky_…'

A/N: Again, thanks my two wonderfulbetas Zoe P. and Fruitbat! And, of course, R&R!And...again...sorry for thelong absence,but I'm back now, so don't worry!


	9. And the tension mounts

Archie couldn't help it! If something so much as even _twitched_, he jumped…which made Billy jump…which pretty much made everyone jump. It was like the Domino effect, and at the end of it all… the A/V tech got a bunch of heated glares. But he couldn't help it! There was a monster that looked like it walked out of a Star Trek episode (or something) and it was terrorizing Vegas! Hell, it could be trampling his apartment at this very moment! And all they had going for them was the fact thatthey were following a relatively empty road towards the dessert! The empty, hot, dry dessert! All to just get away from a monster!

How fucked up was _that_?

So of _course_ he was freaking out over every little thing, it was all too much for him to take!

Plus…when you're following Hodges and Ecklie on the road to survival…a person doesn't feel all that safe. Archie was no exception.

'_I should've gone with Jacqui and them! I'd have more protection from Warrick than fuckin' Hodges…_' he heaved a mental sigh, '_If only they weren't going _towards_ that thing! I'd be right there with them…_' The rumbling sound of the horn was heard, echoing all around them. Another machine rose majestically from out of the ground. Ecklie stopped moving, eyes wide and mouth agape, effectively stopping the rest of them as they all stared at the newcomer. Thankfully, it didn't rise up near them…just in another part of the city…but still…_another one just popped out of ground_!

Another one!

They were all scared shitless by one, that was the reason they were running the hell away! Now there were two? No…there was more than that. Archie turned to his left, seeing another terrorizing another town. If he wasn't mistaken…that was where Greg and them were sent to. Were they still alive, back there? Were they running to Vegas? Could they see the things terrorizing Vegas too? Were they thinking of him? Of the lab?

As the newest machine surveyed its new surroundings, its large, red eye scanning over them…they all jarred into action. Ecklie sprinting down the road without warning, everyone else getting the hint and running after him.

Every man for himself.

* * *

Williams sprinted to Vegas, ignoring the shouts of "Williams! _Williams_! Goddamn it, stop!" coming from his lieutenant. Naturally, he ignored it. His mind was a hamster wheel, going round and round and round and round: He was in a town near Vegas, the said town was under attack by a giant metal monster, one of the same monsters is attacking Vegas, his family and friends were in Vegas, his _family _and _friends_ were in Vegas while he was in a town _not_ in Vegas! He wasn't there to protect his family! That _thing_ could be murdering them right now, destroying their home and their lives, while he was _here_! He wasn't _there_! And for what? A lousy job! He left his family for a lousy job! He didn't give his wife a goodbye kiss, didn't tell her he loved her, didn't tell any of them that he _loved_ them! He'd die for them! He'd do anything for them, as long as they were safe! They were his family, his one and only family! He was supposed to protect them, supposed to be with his wife through thick and thin! Where was he? Not there! Not there for his family! But not for long…he was going to reach them, he was going to find them and protect them! And if not…

If not…

He wasn't going to wait for Stokes to get his ass in gear, he wasn't going to wait for Brass to catch up. He didn't have time. Those two were on their own, they didn't matter. Not now.

Finally, Brass gave up on trying to reach Williams, knowing full well how a father with a family in distress felt, especially if the said father's _kids_ were involved. Nothing could stop a father from reaching his kids, his wife. _Nothing_. And that included a metal titan bent on world domination, or whatever the hell it was doing!

Nick sort of trotted, not quite running, not quite walking…just…_trotting_ down the rotting alley. Heading towards another overcrowded street full of screaming people.

Not for long though. A town could only hold so many people…almost everyone had to have left by now, right? To him, Brass's panicked yells of, "Williams! Stop!" and the screams of terrified people…nothing but background noise compared to the accusations ringing in his ears.

You weren't there for him!

_Stop!_

You left him to die!

_I…I didn't know!  
_You didn't say goodbye!

_I…know…_

Why weren't you there? Didn't you care?

_Of course I cared! I…I tried to find him!_

You were too slow! You should've tried harder!  
_I know! God…Greg…_

You let him die.

_I-_

"Stokes!" Nick snapped out of his grim thoughts, looking up at Brass.

"Huh?"

"Hurry up! You want to get to Vegas soon, right? We don't have time to mope, alright?" Nick felt the anger rise up, hot and powerful, but he quelled it.

Arguing wouldn't help anyone…it would just slow them down more. Catherine or Warrick or Sara or _the whole fuckin' lab_ could need them, right now! They needed to get there now! His eyes traveled to where Williams was, before he snapped and ran to save his family.

_He_ had the right idea. Williams knew what he was doing.

There was no time to waste!

Nick started sprinting to Vegas.

Brass tried to grab the CSI's arm as he passed, but Nick jerked out of his grip…and kept on going.

"Nick! Wait!" but the Texan didn't even slow down. With a growl, Brass quickly followed after him.

What the hell got into Stokes? That idiot was going to wear himself down before they made it to Vegas!

* * *

With every step she took, every bit closer to her daughter, to her house, Catherine's doubts increased.

What if Lindsey wasn't home?

What if they were too slow?

What if the house was collapsed, could they do anything to save her?

Was she still alive?

Oh god, could they really _do_ anything?

And with every step, she felt the doubts gets louder and louder until her legs got wobbly with doubt, her stomach doing flip flops and her heart was _hurting_, ready to burst from the desperation to just _find _Lindsey, to make sure she was safe. To make sure her baby girl was ok. Catherine bit her lip, nervously glancing over to Jacqui to see if she was going through the same thing. Jacqui was getting paler and paler by the minute too, her eyes worriedly darting back and forth through the city, surveying all the damage.

Good to know she wasn't the only one. Taking a deep breath, Catherine forced herself to move faster, ignoring the niggling voice in the back of her head screaming, "_You don't wanna' know! You don't wanna' know! What if she's dead? You can't face that! You don't wanna' know!_"

But she did. She wanted, no…_needed_ to know so badly it hurt. Suddenly, she felt a hand over her shoulder, and turned around.

She was met with Warrick's small smile.

"It'll be alright, Cath." She smiled, weak but there, and nodded.

"Yeah, I know."

'_God I hope so…Just wait a little longer, baby. Mommy's coming…_' and with that, she steeled herself and forced herself to forget everything except how to get home. To concentrate only on finding Lindsey _alive_.

Really…there was no other option.

A/N: What! An update! WHERE! Lol...yeah...enjoy it, I guess. Got another one in the works. No really, I do! R&R!


	10. Just keep chuggin'

Lindsey nervously looked out the window, watching as the metal titan destroyed Las Vegas…praying to _God_ it stayed away from her side of the city. Biting her lip, her eyes moved to the driveway, eager to see _someone_ approach it!

_'Mom? Grandma? Oh man…where are you?_'

Should she leave her house before that thing got there?

Or should she wait for Grandma to show up? The next question brought dread as she watched the big giant metal machine again, wondering if the lab was…

Her mind shied away, rapidly changing gears.

…What about mom? Was she okay?

Lindsey bit her lip harder, the sharp pain barely reaching her as her mind raced through all the grim possibilities in vivid color.

She couldn't stay here! She couldn't just sit and wait while her mom could be dying! While her grandmother was trying her best to run from the monsters! No! She had to help! She had to do…_something_!

Lindsey rushed to her room, grabbed her book bag, dumped the contents onto the floor, and stuffed all the clothes she could inside. Then she went and found a small cardboard box, and threw all the preserved food into it. No fruits or vegetables, those would rot too soon. She stuffed some matches and a flashlight into her pocket, and left. The food would last her about two days…

That would be long enough, right? Surely by then she would have found everyone, and maybe a shelter…

'_Don't worry, mom, Grandma. I'll find you guys, and we'll get out of here!' _Now…which way to go?

* * *

Catherine anxiously drummed her fingers against her thigh, feeling a little bit of relief seep in because the closer she got to the house…a little better everything seemed. At least the monster hadn't trampled through here yet…although, this part of the city looked like a ghost town.

"Warrick…what if my mom already took Lindsey somewhere? How am I going to find her? Oh god…what if I don't?"

"Don't worry, Cath. We'll find her, okay? We'll find Lindsey," he turned to the other distraught woman in the group, "Jacqui we'll find your kids too, all right? Don't worry, we'll be fine." He turned around to regard the rest of the people that were with them, all of them anxiously looking for their family; only five or six of them, including Jacqui. "We'll find everyone we can, okay everybody?" quiet murmurs of acknowledgment were his only reply, most people still too caught up in their worry…

"Catherine…how much further to your house?"

"An hour…maybe two." She shook her head, anxiously running a hand through her hair, "God…this is taking too long. Isn't there…" she flung her arms out. "There's gotta' be a car working around here _somewhere_! I mean…this is a big city! There's has got to be millions of cars, how can none of them work?" She buried her head in her hands, shaking. Warrick laid a comforting hand on her shoulder while the others anxiously hovered around the trembling woman. "What if I never see her again? I didn't say goodbye. I didn't kiss her good night. Does she know how much I love her? God…my baby…" Everyone stayed silent; the only noise came from the faint screams around and the wind as it howled through the ghost town.

Everyone was gone. Fled from the hell Vegas had become.

Did Lindsey leave too?

Or was she simply dead?

Warrick was quick to support Catherine as she started to wretch, puking on to the cracked concrete.

"Hey, hey…come on, it's okay." He rubbed her back, trying to make her relax. She glared up at him, while a good number of the group kept on walking. Right now, their only concern was finding their own family members, group be damned. They weren't going to stop, now. Not for anything…or anyone. Jacqui stayed in the corner, watching the Warrick try to comfort Catherine as the woman started to dry heave.

"You don't get it Warrick…nothing's okay." Both CSIs looked up at Jacqui in surprise, "Nothing's ever going to be okay until we find who we're looking for…alive. Make sure their safe. Right now-"

"Right now nothing's okay. Not for me, not for Jacqui. Not until I find Lindsey, and my mother. Not until Jacqui finds her kids." Catherine straightened up, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. The two woman looked at each other in understanding, and then kept on going, not bothering to try and catch up with the others. Quietly, Warrick trailed behind.

* * *

Lindsey timidly walked the empty streets, nervously clutching the box to her chest as she kept on looking.

"Grandma? Mom?" she peeked through all of the empty cars, wondering where the hell everyone _went_! How did they all leave so fast? And then it hit her.

This was fuckin' Vegas.

Almostno one was home at this time, they were all at work or getting high in clubs somewhere in the heart of the city…where that machine was no doubt killing them all at this very moment.

That's where the crime lab was too.

Something inside her chest constricted, her fists clenched tight.

She was going to see her mom again, right?

There was no _doubt_ in Lindsey's mind that she would find her grandmother and her mother.

_No_ doubt whatsoever!

Yeah…right.

Shetightened her grip onthe box likeit was alifeline, knowing it could quite possible be the only thing left from her house.

'_I've should've grabbed some pictures…_' Lindsey thought to herself, mournfully looking back.

Maybe…if she just went to get some pictures…just two hours…

And she shook her head.

No…

No….

No more excuses, she had to go on. No time to stop, not when her mother or her grandmother could be dying…waiting for her to come rescue them. So she kept walking, eyes nervously darting to and fro for any sign of danger…when it happened.

Another monster rose out of the ground, and this time…it wasn't on the other side of Vegas. She choked up, eyes wide with fear as she gaped at the horrifying sight before her, feet refusing to move.

'_I'm going to die…_' and she took a few stumbling steps backward as she saw her doom start to move through the city, dust flying everywhere. Blocks of concrete went flying through the air, and screams rose up into the sky. Where did those people come from? The machine got closer, and her mind just…shut down. Eyes wide, mouth agape as she stumbled back in a desperate attempt to get away…her thoughts were fast and in tune with her shallow, rapid breaths.

'_Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…_'

"Lindsey!" The voice didn't reach the girl through her panicked haze.

'_Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…'_

"_Lindsey!_"

* * *

Greg shakily stumbled out the house, cowering away from the remains of looming buildings.

Is this all that was left? Empty streets, fires burning all around him and the smell of death overwhelming, making him want to retch?

Is this where Nick died? Or is this what Nick survived?

Swallowing a sob, he looked back at that damned house, or the remains of it. It was nothing more than the grave for two innocent souls, now. Almost three.

Almost…

The thought sent him crumbling down to his knees; harsh sobs making his body tremble as he heard the faint echoes of the titan moving on. Was this it? Could anyone really stop these things? Were they all going to die?

And oh god, _Nick_!

Was he alive? Or did he die too? Like everyone else…

Then again, what did it matter? How…how could he find out?

'_I-I'm not going to spend my life looking for you, am I Nicky? Please…don't be dead. If you are…let me find your body. Don't make me look forever…don't make me look for something that isn't there anymore. Please! Oh god…Please…I'll look for you forever…I'll die for you, just please don't leave me alone! Please…_'

And Greg sat there, a heap of desperate grief, as he sobbed for the lives lost. As he mourned for the future gone, and the frantic hope that Nick was alive.

Because if he wasn't…if he found Nick's body…

It would all be over.

It was simple as that.

And another violent sob shook through his body.

He was going to find Nicky...even if it wasto the grave.


	11. New chapter I know, crazy

It's dark. And not in the, "Oh gee, I'm unconscious" sense, but more in the, "Give me my damn night vision goggles!" sense. Of course, Nick didn't _have_ any night vision goggles, but that was beside the point. He trailed behind Brass as they kept on walking down the highway, the edges of the streets lined with people, and the streets themselves filled with empty cars. Some people were still shuffling through the cars and down the roads, like them, while others simply camped out, keeping wary eyes open for the monsters, ears alert for _that _noise, and meager camp fires to keep them warm. As unappealing as that was, both of them went searching for a place to set up camp (or a shabby excuse for one). Brass kept on glancing at all of the grim faces, looking for Williams. Nick looked around too, for any sign of anyone from the lab. Who knows? Maybe some of them ran this way. He didn't bother looking for Greg.

Dead people don't camp out.

"Stokes, come on!" The detectives grabbed Nick's arm and quickly dragged them into the empty patch of grass, glaring at anyone else who wanted the spot. Nick just sat down, while Brass went around looking for leftover wood, matches, or, and this would be a miracle, food.  
"Please sir, could you just spare one-"

"No! This is _my_ wood, for _my _family! If you want any, then you pay me?" Brass glared at him, before yanking out his money.

"How much?" The man greedily eyed his wallet, fingers drumming against the cracked concrete of the road.

"Fifty dollars."

"_What_?"

"You heard me! Fifty dollars!" Brass growled, resisting the urge to just _sock_ the guy, and gave him a jerky nod.

"Fine, whatever. I'll find someone else." And with that, he whirled around and continued his search.

'_I should help…_' the thought kept coming and going, swimming through his brain, '_I should help…this is all a matter of survival, right? I should do something…_' but every time he tried to move…he didn't. Couldn't. It wasn't a matter of paralysis or anything like that…well…maybe. Just a little. But not physical paralysis…just…mental…?

Nick wasn't sure.

"Hey Mister?" he looked up, into the wide blue eyes of…someone.

"Hm?" they blinked at him, small head cocked curiously to the side.

"Are you okay? You wanna' stay with me and mommy? We have food and-" she proudly thrust her doll into Nick's face, "Billy!"

"Billy?"

"Yup! He's the greatest! Mommy says that if we ever get separated, Billy will look after me!" She smiled, a sweet little gap toothed thing.

"Well your mommy was a smart woman, letting Billy look after you."

"Really?" she stared at him, big eyes looking at him with awe, "Do you know Billy too?"

"Stokes!" Nick looked up as Brass headed towards him, triumphantly holding a milk carton full of water, "Come here and help me make camp! We're staying the night here."

"Yeah…okay…" he gave the small boy an equally small smile, "I guess we'll be camping with you, huh?" he got a toothy beam in reply.

"Hello?" Greg stumbled through the debris, "Hello?" he bit his lip, "Come on! Someone still has to be here, anyone!" it was dark. And cold. And the road was white with…

…well, you know.

Shivering, he hunched in on himself, trying to protect himself from the cold. Eyes on the ground, the white only marred with empty shirts and pants with burns and rips and…

…more ashes.

More goddamned ashes.

From those goddamned _things_!

From only god knows where!

And what the fuck was going on?

He savagely kicked at the ground, causing the dust to rise up and clog his air.

What the _fuck_ is going on!

Coughing and screaming and manically swatting at the dust, eyes clenched tight, mind on a (hopefully) temporary vacation.

Is this all that was left?

Ashes?

Cold?

Where _was_ everyone? Where did they all run? Why can't he find _anyone?_

"Where are you!" he snarled, "Where are you all _hiding_? Why the hell are you all hiding from me? I don't want to be alone…" he swallowed thickly, "You hear me! I don't wanna' be alone, _goddamn it_!" his angry stomps, flailing arms, more screams more snarls more…more panicking.

More helplessness.

No more, please?

He fell to his knees, a second time that day…

Couldn't he at least have a clue that what was happening? Just one?

He was a CSI.

Follow the evidence…

He could just hear Grissom's voice in his head, calm and utterly unaffected, "Just follow the evidence, Greg."

Follow it…

"Okay…" he got up, looking back from where he came from, "the evidence…follow the evidence…"

The beginning. You always start at the beginning, at the scene.

This was just one big, mass homicide. And the perp is a…machine. Now all he had to do was the find the evidence to convict the machine and prove it to a jury.

Really, that's all this was.

Everyday…

'_That's right, Greg. Just keep simplifying it…_'

"Okay…the beginning…the beginning…" The storms, "Aruba." He paused, "can't go there…the crime. That guy. Thomas? The first victim. Okay…the hole. It came out…from the hole." He nodded, "Right…so…start there. Figure out the case, find the evidence, start at the beginning." he took a deep breath, bracing himself, stiffly walking back to where it all started: that goddamned hole, "Gotta' figure it out. Gotta' understand…" another trembling step, his panicked ramblings getting a bit more solid, "Gotta' stop thinking about Nick. Gotta' figure it out…have to see…" he clenched his fist, "Why." Greg ran.


End file.
